


Goddess By Another Name

by ishafel



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishafel/pseuds/ishafel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Millies of the world aren't meant for adventures like this.  It doesn't mean she can't appreciate it when it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goddess By Another Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackEyedGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackEyedGirl/gifts).



Despite her upbringing, which had not been precisely traditional, Millie had never been particularly adventurous sexually. That was to be expected, of course, of a girl who had married the first boy she’d ever met properly. Millie had spent four years at university, though, and she was very well-read. It made her feel a bit of a failure as a feminist sometimes. It wasn’t that she wanted to want to be tied up or to spank Christopher, or that she didn’t enjoy the things they did do, even if they were ordinary and a bit vanilla.

It was more that she’d felt ridiculous in black leather, and that either she or Christopher always laughed at the wrong time when they were roleplaying naughty nurses, and that pegging had seemed like a great deal of work and Christopher hadn’t been able to sit for a week afterward. Still, she sometimes thought wistfully of the forays into lesbianism she might have had at boarding school if it hadn’t been horrid, of being in touch with her inner dominatrix, or at least being able to bring chocolate and whipped cream into bed without worrying about ruining the duvet. But by the time the children were teenagers, she had rather resigned herself to being dull. 

This made it all the more shocking when Millie found herself in bed between her husband and Conrad Tesdinic. She didn’t think of herself as the sort of woman who’d have a menage a trois-- even the words made her smile a little, picturing someone worldly and beautiful and bored. An Esme, a Perdita, a Beatrix. She had had a choice when she was a very young runaway Goddess. She might have been one of those girls, but she had chosen instead to be steadfast, plain Millie, good and a little dull. 

But the Millies of the world didn’t find themselves lying in bed between their husbands and their-- childhood friends turned lovers, with the moonlight casting strange and gorgeous shadows and the children down the hall. Tonight she didn’t feel like a Millie at all. 

They had had dinner together in town, she and Christopher and Conrad. It had been years since she’d seen him, at least properly, not since school. He was the same, stolid and handsome, broader through the shoulders than she remembered, with none of the Tesdinic presence and charm-- Anthea seemed to have gotten both shares of that. He seemed much bigger and solider than Christopher now, though she thought they were almost the same height. 

And she thought he seemed a little tired, a little sad. He never quite said what it was he was doing these days, and she followed Christopher’s lead and didn’t ask. The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, pleasantly domestic. “Have you never married? Never been in love?” she asked, while they were waiting for the waiter to bring coffee and brandy. 

“Oh,” Conrad said, twirling the stem of his wineglass. “No, that is--”. And then Christopher dropped his card-case, and in the ensuing shuffle of picking up cards and banging heads he somehow never answered. They drank their coffees and shared a slice of rather good chocolate torte that would do nothing for Millie’s diet, and then she drove the car back toward Chrestromanci Castle, Conrad quiet in the back, and Christopher beside her, burning with nervous energy.

They were still in the drive, admiring the nearly full moon, when Christopher put his hand on Conrad’s shoulder and pulled him closer and kissed him. Millie stood frozen, her own mouth open. Most of the time she understood Christopher, but after twenty years he could still shock her. They looked good together, Conrad and Christopher, and for a moment she felt very fat and very plain. 

And then Christopher put out his hand and caught her wrist and pulled her close against him, finding her without even looking, and all three of them were laughing, shy and nervous. And somehow without ever talking about it, easy as a charm, straightforward as a spell, they were in bed together.

Millie had never been with anyone who wasn’t Christopher; she’d loved him since she was fifteen, loved him even before that when she was the Living Asheth in her walled cloister. If she’d ever considered a threesome-- and she hadn’t-- she would have expected to feel wickedly self conscious, aware of every spot, every hair she’d missed out on plucking or shaving, every extra stone and every stretch mark. But because it was Conrad, who she’d known almost as long as Christopher, she somehow forgot to be embarrassed. 

Conrad kissed her softly, his mouth open on hers, and he tasted like Christopher, like magic and like coming home. She ought to be someone besides Millie, she thought, as Christopher’s fingers slid inside her, curling against the spot that always made her melt. This kind of thing never happened to girls like Millie. Conrad slid inside her, wider than Christopher, stretching her, and there were fingers on her clitoris, hands on her breasts, a mouth on her neck and one on the curve of her shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful,” Conrad whispered. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. Millie--.” His words, his breath against her skin, pushed her over. And then Conrad was gone and Christopher was inside her. He moved faster and she arched her back and raised her hips, relaxing into his familiar rhythm.

And then they were lying on either side of her, Christopher breathing hard, Conrad already half asleep. For once, Millie didn’t giggle and ruin everything. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of tenderness for both of them. “How did you know?” she whispered to Christopher. 

He smiled and touched her face. “He’s loved you since he met you,” he said. “How could he not?”

After a moment he started to snore a little, and Millie thought about getting up, thought about how someone as smart as Christopher could be so very dumb, thought about the way Conrad looked at Christopher, even when they were children, thought that she could hardly blame him when she looked at Christopher the same way. And then she fell asleep, too, safe and warm and loved, Millie to the last.


End file.
